Never Grow Up
by Miss Breeziness
Summary: The adventures of Peter Pan and his friends are disrupted by one pirate you'd never expect to meet in Neverland...


Never Grow Up

On a distant island, far off in the stars, the day was as beautiful as it was long. A waterfall fell a thousand feet into a blue, peaceful lagoon, framed by lush growths of palms, lilies, and so many kinds of blossoming flower it was impossible to count them all. To the untrained eye, nothing could possibly be amiss.  
Although, to the young girl clad in a blue nightgown and the sprightly boy in green, who were descending from the sky to land on a large rocky outcrop by the water, something could.

"Where _are _the mermaids, Peter?"

Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up and knew every square inch of this island, Neverland, like the back of his hand since, after all, he's had decades to explore it, shook his head in a confounded manner. "They're normally around at this time. I don't understand."

Wendy sighed. "Oh dear. I was _so _looking forward to seeing them."

"I…I wouldn't be too sure of that," came a new voice.

The two children were startled, and both nearly jumped a foot in the air. A rustle sounded from under a palm tree – and a rather rugged, beaten-looking man pulled himself from underneath it.

Wendy gasped in shock.

_Never _before had she seen a person who looked so slovenly, apart from perhaps the beggar who had came up to her mother once when she and her brothers had been taken for a stroll in the park. His clothes were in the most disgraceful state she had ever seen – they were unironed, dirty, and absolutely dripping wet. He had dark hair tied in dreadlocks – _dreadlocks_! And these too were dripping with water. A rag was tied around his head. His entire appearance reeked of ill-breeding and disrepute.

Peter Pan leapt in front of her defensively, a challenging glare in his eyes. There were normally no adults in Neverland, apart from the Indian tribe and…those wretched _pirates _of Captain Hook's crew. And this man was certainly no Indian. "Who are you?" He shouted at the newcomer, half-knowing the answer already.

The man struggled to move, pulling himself onto the rocky outcropping. He raised his hand to his head, as if to tip his hat – and his eyes widened as he realized he had no hat to tip. "Pardon me. Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, my good sir and madam," he said with a surprising air of politeness, and even curtseyed to Wendy, winking at her as he did so.

Wendy did not respond, even though she had, from her parents, a good impression of what ladies should do when a gentleman introduces himself. After all, _this _man was _certainly _no gentleman! And the way he winked had made her uncomfortable. She stepped back, disgusted, but then noticed something else - The stranger's face was covered with too many tiny, red hand-marks to count.

"Are you hurt?" She couldn't help but ask.

Jack Sparrow winced a little. "Yeah. Them young mermaid lasses, they sure be a feisty bunch for sure. I mean, you just _talk _to them, an'they start a-slapping ya and tryin' ta pull ya into the water for goodness' sakes! I mean, what's _wrong _with telling a wench that she's pretty an'you wanna have her an' all her cute lil' friends, huh?"

The sympathy disappeared from Wendy's heart in an instant. Despite her young age, she had heard her parents remark, in highly disapproving tones, about certain men who would "fool around" with young girls, married women, and…just about anyone, it seemed. She did not quite know what this "fooling around" consisted of, but her mother had gone into one of her _extremely _rare angry moments, talking about how they broke the girls' hearts and didn't care. Judging from what this "Jack Sparrow" was saying, he certainly seemed to have a lot in common with those men, if he weren't actually one of them! She placed her hands on her hips and glared. "Well, you can't blame them then. You were _horribly _rude, and that is _no way_ for a gentleman to act."

"Easy there, love," Jack Sparrow stammered, holding up a hand. "I can tell you don't like me much, by the tone of your voice and your posture there. You – and your pixie boyfriend there – You would both rather that I vanish completely from this place in a twinklin'. You see, I'm pretty much an expert at judging these things. Savvy?"

Wendy was taken aback. Yes, that was completely true, and she did not know how to respond. Peter, however, seemed to have become doubly angered by the "pixie" remark, and all of a sudden he reached out, grabbing Sparrow's collar, and stared him straight in the eyes. "I know what you are - You're a _pirate_. Hook put you up to this, didn't he?"

"There now, easy on my throat, mate," Jack Sparrow choked out. "Okay. Here's the deal. Yeah, I'm a pirate. And, if I were bein' completely honest, glad to be one. But I'm my _own _pirate, mate. I don't know nothing about this 'Hook' guy, and I sure _aren't_ working for him. Savvy?"

Peter's grip relaxed a little. He could believe that this man wasn't one of Hook's crew, but still, he wouldn't let him off the hook so easily. "In that case, how _did _you end up in Neverland?"

"Ah, Neverland. So this be the name of this place - Well, it sure beats something as unimaginative as 'Shipwreck Cove', that's for sure. Okay, I'm gonna be completely honest now, but you won't believe me. You see, I 'ad this ancient navigation chart from the mysterious Far East, and it showed the location of, believe it or not, _the Fountain of Youth_. I followed it, and come all of a sudden, I weren't sailin' anywhere on Earth no more. I don't know how I knew, I just _knew_. If you know what I mean."

Wendy shook her head.

"…And then I ended up in this here lagoon. What Fountain of Youth? I don't see a fountain or spring or even a trickle of water here anywhere. Unless that there waterfall be it…"

Peter shot a rather puzzled glance at Wendy. Suddenly, she understood – Jack Sparrow was led here to Neverland because he sought exactly what she did. Never to grow up. Never to be sullied by the dreadful lack of excitement, the corruption of the soul, all the degradation brought on by the process.  
But for _him_, she thought secretly, it was already too late.

"…So, my good young lady and gentleman, Captain Jack Sparrow would be _most _appreciative if either of you know any way for me to get home. I mean, this is a really nice place, but I'm all out of rum and I kinda miss it, if you understand."

So, this man was _a drunkard,_ as well as a pirate, shameless womanizer, and plain old slovenly. Surprisingly, Wendy realized that she _still _felt some sympathy for Jack Sparrow, despite knowing all that - Probably it was because he was beyond help now, if eternal childhood was what he desired. She couldn't imagine how awful it would be if _she _had already grown up, wished to return to this place of sheer innocence and wonder, and could not.

This man deserved at least _some _compassion, like that beggar in the park.

"Peter brought me and my brothers here, and he has visited our home quite often," she heard her own mouth say, but made no attempt to silence it. "I'm sure he'll know how to get _you _home too."

Upon hearing that, the dreadlocked pirate captain flashed a grin, showing off a mouthful of teeth - most being a rather sickly yellow, and some plated with gold filling. "Ah, mate, if you could do that, you'd have the _lifelong _gratitude of Captain Jack Sparrow. And…No hard feelings about the "pixie" thing, right?"

"None," Peter said. His tone was emotionless, but still carried a tinge of suspicion. "It's just that I'm not a pixie. My best friend is, but _I'm_ not. Just keep that clear."

"Aye aye, my good man."

"_Man_??"

"Oops."

"_Shhhhh_!" Wendy was surprised at Peter's sudden, anxious reaction, but then realized she too could hear the sound of splashing water.

Peter leapt lightly into the air, floating to a high outcropping of rock, and peered behind it. Then he leapt back.

"Yep, it's Hook."

"Ah, Hook. That be the rogue who's givin' you so much trouble, eh, good Master Pan?"

"_SHHHHH_! Yes, _that's_ him alright," Peter whispered back, a look of deep anger in his eyes. "Ask Wendy. She knows _everything _about Neverland. It's amazing what she can tell you."

"Oh, Peter, surely I don't know _everything_..." Wendy replied modestly.

"There are few souls in this world who can make such a claim, Miss Wendy." Jack Sparrow leaned his head close to Wendy's, and whispered: "Now, tell me _what _you know of said villainous pirate who's a troublin' your man there, savvy?"

"Captain Hook is the black-hearted pirate who has terrorized the seas around Neverland for years and years. He attacks without mercy, and will even shoot his own men without a thought if they disappoint him," Wendy whispered back, although her voice couldn't help but betray disgust at being so close to the slovenly face of Jack Sparrow. Somehow though, she had a sudden feeling of pride in her (relatively) extensive knowledge of Peter Pan-lore, and felt determined to do a good job of explaining it, even to _him_. "Well, he _used _to terrorize the seas, anyway. _These _days, he just wants to kill Peter Pan no matter what."

"Ah, this man, he reminds me of _another _scoundrel I knew once," Jack whispered back in an understanding tone, and Wendy reeled back at the overpowering stench of alcohol from his breath - how long has it _really _been since he's run out of rum? "Part of me own crew, an' a trusted member, no less."

Wendy nearly reeled at the jumble of confusing thoughts that followed this statement. She didn't understand - this Jack Sparrow was a pirate _himself_. He admitted it so readily. And _all _pirates, she knew, would kill, kidnap and loot from innocent people as part of their very profession. Wasn't it a bit..._hypocritical_ for him to express disapproval of the ways of fellow pirates? Even though she knew that people like this regularly backstabbed and betrayed one another for profit, it really _was _a bit much.

But still, if this man didn't have some fundamental goodness and innocence in him, he shouldn't have found his way here. Although it _was _rather impressive that a _pirate _could still have such values, even a vestige of them, remaining in him. Also, his mannerism of using so many big words with a simultaneous playfulness of spirit actually reminded her of John, who prided himself on how well he learnt each of his lessons, but still loved to listen to her stories and play out scenes from them as much as little Michael did...

She recoiled. _No way_ that a pirate, even a relatively decent one, could have _anything _in common with her brothers, annoying and naughty though they may be at times! However, her thoughts were interrupted by Peter leaning inwards and whispering to her: "The villain's kidnapped Princess Tiger Lily."  
"Why would he want to do _that_?" Wendy wondered.  
"Ah, to capture a fair princess," Captain Jack Sparrow crooned in an exaggerated manner. "The pinnacle of the dreams of every man, and you wonder why _that _is desired, my bonny lass?" With that, the pirate captain took Wendy's hand and kissed it.  
She wasn't that shocked by the act, but revulsion gripped her, and could now think of nothing else to do except looking away in disgust and slapping the unwelcome flirter on the face.

"WENDY!" Peter whispered rather angrily. "They'll know we're here!"  
"Ah, ah, ah, steady there, my good man...um, boy," Jack Sparrow interrupted, holding out a hand between Peter and Wendy. "Anger 'n' raised voice be the guaranteed way to drive away the fairer sex. And now, if you will be calm, Captain Jack Sparrow will repay your kindness of the promise to take him home." With that last work, he leapt forward lightly, as Peter had done...and landed face-down in a rock pool.

"Ow. Someday, you gotta teach me that flyin' thing."

Peter and Wendy looked at each other, and both instantly knew of the other's similarly pessimistic assessment of the success of such an endeavour, should it be attempted.

"Who goes there?" The terrifying voice of Captain Hook rang out.

With that, Jack Sparrow got up and ran forward, rounding the rock face. Peter and Wendy could no longer see him now, but heard his voice coming: "Now, now. It's just me, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Caribbean Sea. A fellow sailor, buccaneer, an' adventurer like yourself. No need to be feelin' all threatened-like around a colleague, savvy?"

"I should cut yer throat for intruding on _my _territory..." Hook's voice continued.

Wendy could hear the raving of two distinct voices, but could no longer hear what words the two men were threatening each other, or bargaining with a clear intention to go back on the promise, with.

"Do you believe him?" She asked Peter.

Peter shook his head, but then stopped himself, and shook his head again, slower this time. "He _does_ seem somehow different from Hook. Then again, he _is _a pirate. Still, if he's telling the truth, the only one who can get him home is me, and I _certainly _don't want him staying in Neverland. I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on him for now."

All of a sudden, around the rocky outcropping appeared Jack Sparrow, a triumphant grin on his face. Cradled in his arms, looking disgusted and terrified, was Princess Tiger Lily.

"Ah, my good Master Pan, I come hither, having successfully bargained with yonder villainous Captain Hook, the devillous scourge of the Seven Seas, to secure the freedom of thy fair lily maid," proclaimed the dreadlocked pirate, grinning in pride. With that, he looked down at Tiger Lily. "And I think I deserve a lil' reward for that, eh, love?"

With that, he planted a kiss on the Indian princess' lips. The slap came so quickly, and so hard, he had no time to even turn away. Rubbing his freshly reddened cheek, Jack Sparrow shook his head.

"Well, _that _was kinda ungrateful, if I say so myself."

"Actually, I can't blame her," Wendy whispered to Peter, her disgust clear. "Besides, his Shakespeare is terrible."

"What's Shakespeare?" Peter said expressionlessly, his back to her. He was busy glaring at Jack Sparrow with a gaze that could have set the very rocks aflame.

Not too far off, sitting on a tiny, delicate flower that sprouted from one of the rock-cracks, a pixie watched, unseen. Her normally cheerful golden glow had faded long ago, now replaced by a hue of dark, depressing blue. But then, she heard something said by the stranger to that wicked pirate, Captain Hook, and Hook's response. The blue glow suddenly turned to a furious blazing red...but then faded to dull red and blue again.

"Boy, I'm really, really, _really _tired!" Michael, the youngest of the Darling siblings, proclaimed, with his cheeks brilliantly red and a huge grin on his face as the gang of Lost Boys tumbled into the giant hollow tree that served as their home, and now also his and his siblings'. "But I wanna dance again! I wanna dance _all night_!"

"I am only pleased we've had the privilege to have been part of these sacred customs," John, the next youngest, stated, holding his head high. The eagle feather in his headband stood proudly.

"Wendy, come and dance with us!" Michael pleaded, tugging at the hem of his sister's nightgown.

Wendy sighed, and seated herself on a rough bed of animal skins, ignoring Michael's tugging. She found little to agree with in her brothers' sentiments. She had _not _had a good evening at all, although spending it with the Indian tribe should have made for one. And the _entire _cause of her displeasure had been that Captain Jack Sparrow...okay, the fact that she, as a girl, was not allowed to dance and had spent most of the evening gathering firewood had also contributed somewhat.

The Indian chief, though pleased beyond words at the safe return of his daughter, had initially had misgivings about Jack Sparrow. However, once Peter had explained things (with a few doubts of his own), he placed them aside and gave the renegade pirate an Indian title: Chief Black Hawk. Jack, although initially declining politely and informing the chief that he "was happy just being Captain Sparrow", quickly warmed up to his new name and introduced himself to all and sundry by it. Then, taking advantage of his new position of favour, he had instantly ordered a huge fire built and everybody to sing, dance, eat, drink, and basically "have the greatest time you've ever had in your lives. Savvy?"

However, his idea of the "greatest time" obviously included activities that were, to say the least, morally questionable. One of the first things he had done was to ask if the Indians had any alcohol. Right in front of John and Michael. When the answer turned out to be "no", he had been most dejected - for a while, but then started flirting with every Indian maiden in sight. Boy, did the idea of settling down respectably with one woman ever even _cross this man's mind_? In between hard face slaps, he would take time out to holler in a most unholy manner, beat his chest, and do cartwheels in front of the fire.

And the boys were _delighted _with his antics. All the way home, John, Michael, and the Lost Boys had been hollering, chest-beating, and cartwheeling to their hearts' content. Worst of all...John had come up to her, took her hand, and said in the same tone of voice Jack used: "Hello, lil' lady. What say you and me get together an' have a real nice time?"

She had to remember he was her brother, and he didn't know what he was saying, because - when she had heard those words come out of his mouth - she had felt the urge, most unbecoming of a good sister, to smack him.

"Sorry, Michael. I'm just really tired," she said.

That was true.

And the sooner the source of that tiredness was out of Neverland, the better. He, and all he stood for, was a corrupting influence on this paradise of innocence and wonder. If he stayed any longer, she thought, the magic would fade, and even Peter Pan and his Lost Boys would become the boys who grew up while never expecting they would. And her brothers...well, they would grow up too. Grow up to be just like _him_. Scoundrels without a single ounce of etiquette or breeding, without any respect for women, without _any_ boundaries whatsoever.

She had dreaded the world which she had been expected to grow up in - A world of men in dull, crowded offices shouting at each other, of women who gossiped all day long about fashions and theatre and the latest misshaps of their unfortunate friends, a world completely devoid of any wonder, any excitement, any joy whatsoever, where people who sold their souls to that demon known as alcohol to dull the pained meaninglessness of their lives. The snippets of that world she had been able to glean from her parents' conversations had alone been enough to convince her that she wanted none of it.

However, compared to what Captain Jack Sparrow was threatening to turn them all into, that world was almost beginning to look attractive. At least, over there, most people knew how to _behave_.

There was only one thing to do.

"All right! John, Michael. We're getting ready for bed, and we're going home in the morning!"

"Home??"

Wendy had expected the shocked, disappointed look on their faces. She knew they loved this place, and she understood why - Over here, there were no parents telling them what to do, no arbitary rule saying they had to be in bed before eight, no letterbooks and arithmetic-books, no admonitions to stand up straight and never get dirt on their clothes. Here, they could play, rough-house, and stay up late to their hearts' content.

Come to think of it, that was kind of like how Jack Sparrow lived...

"We have to. Don't you see? That Captain Jack Sparrow is a _bad influence_ on you two. I mean, you are starting to be just as rowdy and uncivilized as he is. If we stay any longer, I'd hate to think _what _will happen."

"Oh no, _please _don't go!" The fattest of the Lost Boys, who had been listening to the conversation quitely from a skin rug on the floor, suddenly piped up passionately.  
"Yeah, we had a really great time with you," chorused another, and soon all the Lost Boys were crowded around Wendy and her brothers, talking about how much they liked them, the guarantee of _heaps _more fun tomorrow, and why Neverland is _so _much better than...  
"Yeah, what _was _that place where we used to live again?"  
"We've _always _lived in Neverland, you idiot!"  
"_I'm_ not an idiot! _You _are..."  
And, as another regular Lost Boy brawl begun, Wendy sighed, now being even more convinced of the rightness of her and her brothers returning home.

"Yes, go home!" The children raised their heads to see Peter Pan, not looking particularly pleased about what he had just heard, standing in the doorway. If it could be called that. "Go home and grow up. But once you grow up, you won't be able to come back again. _Ever_!"

John and Michael wore identical looks of horror on their faces. Wendy, however, was not so easily convinced of that. "But didn't Jack Sparrow…"

"I don't know _how_ he got here, but I'm sending him home. _First_ thing tomorrow. That man's nothing but trouble, I know it. Tiger Lily told me that the deal he'd made with Captain Hook was going to be bad for me. She couldn't say exactly what, that was part of the deal. But she told me to be very careful tonight."

Wendy breathed an enormous sigh of relief. "Well, I'm glad you feel the same way, Peter. Who knows _what_ Neverland will turn into, if he stays here."

"But you…" Peter paused, looking at Wendy. "I like you, you know. _You_ don't have to leave."

He gazed directly into her eyes as he spoke. Wendy felt her cheeks flush, and regretted that she had been so jealous of the time he had spent with Tiger Lily. After all, they _had_ been discussing something important, not what she had imagined them to have talked about. She was important to him, and she should have known. How silly she had been!

"Oh, Peter…" She managed to choke out. Tears were welling up in her eyes. "The one thing I liked about Neverland the most was always _you_."

"So, you'll stay?"

"All right. After that Jack Sparrow is gone, I'll stay."

"Hooray! Hip-hip-hooray!" A chorus came from behind them, and Wendy turned around to see John, Michael and the Lost Boys cheering, waving their arms, and jumping up and down, variously tossing feathered headbands, a parasol, and a teddy bear in the air. She couldn't help but smile at their childish exuberance.

Peter Pan, however, still had a puzzled look on his face. "Come to think of it, where _is_ that pirate? I haven't seen him since we left the Indians. Has _anybody_ seen him?"

An awkward silence filled the room.

"No, I haven't seen him, boss."

"Me neither."

"He was just outside a while ago! I know, _you_ lost him."

"Nah! It was _him_."

"DON'T START THAT AGAIN!!" Hollered Peter Pan in his severest voice. "Now, everybody: An important security breach has occurred, and we have reason to believe the escaped suspect is a traitor."

"I was personally under the impression that Captain Jack Sparrow had allied himself with us," muttered John.

Wendy was rather frightened at the news, but not shocked. Part of her had always expected a man of Jack Sparrow's caliber to behave in this way. "He _is_ a pirate," she admonished. "And pirates are _always_ betraying their friends. You should know that by now."

Just then, what appeared to be a tiny shooting star flew into the hollow tree, and a loud ringing sound filled the room.

"Tinkerbell?? But you're still banished…What?? Pirates? Coming _here_? And…Are you sure? It really is _him_?"

"What is it?" Wendy gasped, worried. But she didn't really need to ask, for at that moment an enormous crashing and splintering sound was heard as the upper section of Peter Pan's arboreal hideout was broken through with terrific force. The boys screamed and ran as enormous pieces of wood and bark rained down upon them.

At that moment, a vast horde of burly, swarthy pirates came pouring in, brandishing cutlasses and screaming at the top of their voices. Before they had time to scream again, John, Michael and the Lost Boys were captured, bound, gagged, and dragged away. Wendy suddenly felt a forceful hand on her neck, threatening to choke her.

"Come with me, love, there's a good girl."

She recognized the voice of Captain Jack Sparrow. Indeed, he _had_ betrayed them all. And to Captain Hook, at that.

"You're…_despicable_!" She spat.

"Yer know that old rhyme 'bout sticks an' stones, darling?"

Wendy wondered why she was so angry at finding out about Jack Sparrow's actions, even though part of her _had_ always suspected him. Part of her, she supposed, had still held out hope for him – that he may be redeemed, somehow. Probably because she, unbelievably enough, saw some of herself in him. Another part of her even, she could admit now, _admired_ how carefree an approach to life he had, how playfully he conducted himself, how innocent his attitude was…

_Innocent_? No, that couldn't _possibly_ be a word to describe the man who was now marching down to the beach, where Hook's pirate ship was now anchored, with a hand firmly on her neck.

Wendy noticed that a golden glint came from his other hand. She looked more closely, and then noticed that a ringing sound emitted from it.

No, this man _was_ despicable. To his very bone marrow.

"So, my little friends, what shall it be? Join my crew-" Here, Captain Hook gestured with a gracious bow towards the pirate with the ship's rollbook – "or, a nice long swim?"

He gestured with equal graciousness toward the plank.

John, Michael and the Lost Boys were unanimous in their vocal support for the first option. They were practically jumping up and down – and would have been, if they, along with Wendy, were not all strapped to the ship's mainmast.

"Boys!!" Wendy's disapproving tone startled them all. "Aren't you _ashamed_ of yourselves? Don't you know what pirates _do_?"

"But…Hook said we'll walk the plank if we don't," came the dejected voice of a Lost Boy.

"Yes, this _is_ the most rational course of action given our circumstances," John agreed.

"It's all Jack Sparrow's fault!" Michael chimed in.

"Yes, indeed," Captain Hook replied. He stepped aside, and Wendy and the boys saw their former pirate friend, now all decked out in fine silken shirts, a regal purple cape, and enormous silken hat topped with a feather, not unlike Hook's own. "It is all thanks to my new First Mate, Jack Sparrow. You see, he had made a most splendid bargain with me: In exchange for Princess Tiger Lily's freedom -"

"_And_ a nice new wardrobe," Jack admonished.

"- _And_ a nice new wardrobe, he would lead my crew to Peter Pan's secret hiding place."

"Hey, a bottle of rum was also part of the deal," added Jack. "And the good captain was also so generous as to make me First Mate, which wasn't."

A few miles inland, a rather chubby and red-nosed pirate was in the process of constructing a rough wooden shack using branches and an old dinghy. Piracy had been all he had known since boyhood, and now he had just been made redundant. Come on, _all_ that other man had done is give the boss the location to Peter Pan's hiding place, which he's been obsessed with finding for years, and suddenly _he_'s First Mate?

Smee sighed. This new promotion system was going to bring the whole ship down, he knew it.

"I thought we could _trust_ you!" Spat Peter Pan. He was also strapped, but separately from the others, to Hook's fine parlour chair that had been brought out onto the deck. Placed upside-down on the floor next to it was a crystal wineglass, containing a very irate Tinkerbell.

Jack Sparrow looked at him, a slight smirk on his face. "Pirate. All part of the job."

"I'm sorry," Wendy pleaded, looking directly at Peter's face. "_I_ thought he could be trusted too. This whole mess was _my_ fault."

"Ah, if we are to apportion blame, you have nary but a little to your name, my dear," Jack interrupted before Peter could reply, with a little curtsey in Wendy's direction. "All you've to stretch yerself o'er the racks for is too much of a good thing, your innocent heart and purity of spirit. Or was that the other way round, I forgot. An' your brothers and comrades-in-arms, as Master John has already explained meticulously, are caught 'tween hell n' high water an' see little choice but to join with my worthy new employer here," he finished with a flourishing gesture towards Hook.

"What happened to 'villainous rogue'?" Peter demanded loudly from his luxurious stocks.

"You called me _that_…?" Captain Hook's expression turned to a scowl as he turned to Jack Sparrow.

"Just a tiny bit. Ah, yes, so as we'll have to conclude from the evidence, the bulk of responsibility for this fiasco must lie within myself, the one who chose to betray you all to your worst enemy, and of course said worst enemy himself. I'd say a 50-50 split would be fair, savvy?"

Wendy stared at him, wide-eyed. His words were becoming more and more confusing to her every minute – he seemed to be _completely_ aware of the immorality of his actions. Simultaneously, he didn't seem the least bit truly sorry. Her anger towards him grew by the minute.

Jack Sparrow, however, strutted across the deck, making deliberately exaggerated movements. He stopped, bent down, and examined the wineglass that was currently serving as Tinkerbell's prison.

"Hmmm. Who trapped this pretty bug in here, huh? I _do_ hate to see any livin' thing caged up…"

And, with that, he lifted the glass. Tinkerbell flew out from underneath it in a furious hurry, brushing against Jack's arm as she did so, coating it in a sheen of sparkling golden dust. Jack felt his arm somehow grow lighter. So did the side of his body. So did his _entire_ body…

"Hmmm. Now this _is_ interesting."

Captain Jack Sparrow was _flying_.

"What are you _doing_? Come down this instant!" Captain Hook cried, banging his hook hard onto a table. "Aaaaah!" He screamed as he realized it was stuck there.

"WOOHOOHOO!! I'm a bird! I'm a kite! I'm a balloon full of hot air…oh no, that doesn't sound right. But this is AWESOME!!" Jack Sparrow cried as he looped several times around the mainmast. "YEEEE-HAH!! Yes, I'm coming, boss!" He cried, swooping down – directly into Captain Hook.

The crimson-coated pirate screamed as he was knocked across the deck, his arm detaching from the hook that was still wedged into the table. His crew gave a great uproar, pulled out their shining cutlasses, and charged forward at Jack Sparrow -

"Just a minute."

Maybe it was the authoritative way in which he had held up his hand. Maybe it was his title as First Mate. Maybe it was his clothes, but whatever the reason was, the swarming pirates did stop to listen to Jack Sparrow.

"Your captain here. Do you _really_ like him?"

Silence followed.

"Ah, you're not sure. That be meaning that he's done you wrong, or done you not so good, in the past. Am I right?"

More silence, then a tiny squeaky voice spoke up.

"I hate the way he's always screaming at us."

"Yeah, and every time we plunder a ship, _he_ gets eighty per cent, and _we_ live off what's left like bilge rats!" Another pirate joined in.

"Okay. So then, why don't you mutiny and throw'im out? After all, you are honest, decent, hard-working pirate folk, are you not?"

"Because he shoots any man who's makin' 'im mad!" The first pirate with the squeaky voice spoke again.

"Ah, a captain who is bad-tempered, takes more then 'is fair share, _and_ a murderer at that! _I_ say it's time to throw the man overboard once and for all. And we can do that, literally, 'cause we _are_, after all, on a ship. Now if you will get out of the way, I'll be more than happy to do the honours for you."

"No! Help me! I order you to fight…" Hook, who had only recovered now, managed to barely stand up, but nobody was listening to him. Then, his eyes bulged out. His former first mate – okay, former first mate for two hours – was flying straight in his direction, just like that blasted Peter Pan would always do.

And pinned him by the neck with one hand.

"No, no, NOOOOOO!!" Cried Hook, as he was unceremoniously dumped overboard.

"Hooray!!" Cheered Peter, Wendy, John, Michael, the Lost Boys, and even the rest of the pirate crew.

Snapping sounds and cries of "Help! Heeeeeeelllllllpppp!" came from below, as Jack Sparrow alighted comfortably on the rim of the crow's nest, smirking as he supported himself with one hand on the mast.

"And that, my good Master Pan, was the plan all along," he proclaimed proudly.

"Does this mean that he _was_ always on our side?" One of the Lost Boys enquired.

"Indeed it does, young gentleman. Annnnnd, I believe this has taught us all a very valuable lesson about…Whoops! OW!"

Captain Jack Sparrow had slipped into the crow's nest and banged his head.

"Thank you for all your help, good Chief Black Sparrow," Peter Pan said to Jack, as they shook hands on the beach, surrounded by chests of treasure given by the grateful pirates. Peter was now standing clad in Hook's old crimson robe and enormous hat, looking rather majestic in this attire, amid joyful cries of "All hail Captain Pan!" from the Lost Boys, John, and Michael.

"My most respectable Captain Pan," Jack Sparrow responded, "I believe you still be lackin' faith in me, we can say. I am kind of experienced in judging these things, and you've gotten my honourable Indian title wrong. It's Black Hawk, not Black Jack Sparrow. …I mean, it's Jack Hawk Sparrow…what I'm tryin' to say is, getting a man's official title wrong is _clear_ indication that you do not respect him much."

Wendy frowned, but could not hold it for long before bursting into giggles.

"I cannot be angry at you," Peter said, looking thoughtful. "Yes, you betrayed us as part of a deal to free Princess Tiger Lily, but then more than paid me back by ridding me of my greatest enemy. With the pirates on good terms with us, my men and I can now live out our days in peace. My friend, you have the _lifelong_ gratitude of Captain Pan."

"Does this mean he really _is_ a good guy?" Michael inquired eagerly.

Wendy smiled. Captain Jack Sparrow was a man of such mixed natures that she felt "good" and "bad" were labels too simplistic for him. However, judging by the totality of his actions since she had known him, her heart leaned towards placing him in the "good" category. He _had_ betrayed them, but that was to save an innocent life, and then had directly interfered before anyone was really hurt. All without going back on _any_ of his words, to Peter and herself _or_ to Captain Hook.

But perhaps a better descriptor would be "innocent". Yes, _innocent_. She had seen his sense of wonder and joy when he flew, and it could rival that of her brothers, the Lost Boys, and Peter Pan himself. Despite his sordid history, irrespectable habits, and profession, not to mention the fact that he had already grown up, he _maintained_ that sheer love for life.

After all, if he had not, he would have never been able to fly.

"I guess he is," she told Michael, still smiling.

"All right, do you wish to go home now?" Peter asked.

Jack Sparrow smiled. "Yes, that would be appreciated. You see, I'm out of rum again."

"And you?" Peter turned to Wendy, looking her directly in the eyes.

Wendy smiled at the pained look on his face. "Yes, er…Captain Pan, we are ready to go home. But you know, I believe that someday we _will_ see you again."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You see, I've learned something from our friend Captain Sparrow here. Just because you grow up…doesn't mean you have to _grow up_."

Peter looked confused.

"I'll take your word for it, ma'am."

"This boat is _tiny_," complained Michael.

"It does not appear to have been properly crafted for seaworthiness," John analyzed, poking a hole in the bottom with his parasol.

Jack frowned. "Not polite to complain about a gift horse, little masters," he admonished. "Tis the vessel that bore me hence to Neverland, and 'tis the one that will bear us home."

"Will you please _keep it down_??" Demanded the prisoner bound in the back of the boat.

"My good former Captain Hook," Jack said good-naturedly, "may I care to remind you that I snatched you out of the crocodile's jaws, and I can put you back."

Hook turned pale as a sheet, and did not speak any longer.

"Pixie dust!" Commanded Peter, standing majestically at the prow of the tiny, rickety boat, in full Hook attire.

On this cue, Tinker Bell flew from bow to stern, sprinkling dust everywhere. It wasn't very hard, as there wasn't much area to cover.

Giving off a golden glow like a mythical treasure ship from legend, Captain Jack Sparrow's leaking dinghy rose from the lagoon of Neverland high into the sky, past the moon and stars, cutting through the night breeze.

"I wish we could have done this to the _Pearl_," muttered Jack.

"Peter, thank you so much," Wendy said, as the little boat hung in the air outside the open nursery window of the Darling house. "We had the _most_ wonderful time. And the one thing I'm going to miss the most…is _you_."

The two children gazed into each others' faces for a few seconds, painfully aware that soon, one of them would be a child no more.

"Wendy, are you really _sure_ you want to grow up?" Peter asked. "I would _hate_ to never see you again."

"Me too," Wendy whispered. "But I believe we can. I mean, if Captain Sparrow could make it to Neverland after already growing up, _anyone_ can."

"And the next time we meet, we shall each have learnt much more about the world, and be able to share our knowledge with each other!" John added eagerly.

"_And_ we can all dance together again…Yawn, we'll dance _all night_," Michael muttered.

"Michael, you should be in bed…well, we _all_ should," Wendy pointed out, smiling. She stepped out of the boat and into the nursery window, and then helped John and Michael in.

"Goodbye!" The three children waved, as the little golden boat sailed off into the night air.

"Wendy, sorry love! I don't think you and I were meant to be…" the voice of Jack Sparrow came, barely a whisper now.

But Wendy was so full of a strange bittersweet gladness that she didn't even feel the urge to slap his face anymore.

"Jack Sparrow! What…What _is_ this devilry?"

"Heavens above! A real-to-goodness flyin' golden boat! An' I thought those things were only in 'em children's stories…"

"Ahem. My good friends, are we not all missing something here? I mean, what _is_ the importance of a marvelous, magical, flying golden boat compared to having your old friend and captain home again? I'm disappointed in you men - I thought you _knew_ how to prioritize."

Jack Sparrow stepped out of his flying dinghy onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_, surrounded by gasping old shipmates. A clattering sounded as another very familiar person approached.

"Well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow," Hector Barbossa proclaimed, stroking his beard. "And here we all thought you'd never catch up with us. However, you _do_ have this unpleasant propensity for returning from the dead."

"I wasn't dead, my old friend," Jack retorted. "Only been to a place more amazing than life _or_ death, and lived to tell the tale." With that, he leapt lightly off the deck, circled the mainmast, and landed next to Barbossa, who gasped as he realized a knife was now next to his neck.

The pirates gasped.

"Okay, here's the deal. To prove that I bear you lot no ill will for stealing my ship and strandin' me behind _again_, I henceforth concede captainship…captainhood…well, I'll let you be captain, okay Hector old mate? Just make me your First Mate, and give me a nice fancy wardrobe. Oh yes, _and_ all the rum I can drink," Jack added with a wicked grin.

"Agreed!" Barbossa choked out.

"Second thing. I have a friend I'd like to introduce. Captain Pan, if you'd like to do the honours…"

The crew of the _Black Pearl_ gasped at seeing the flamboyantly-dressed boy, who couldn't be older than twelve, pull a rather miserable-looking man with only one hand out of the back of the dinghy and dump him unceremoniously on deck.

"This is Codfish. Okay, that's not his real name, but everyone calls him that. He lost his hand in a great naval battle with a very worthy young captain, but believe it or not, he's a really good pianist. They're doing amazing things with hook-hands these days. He also comes in handy when you need some fish or meat carried around."

Barbossa broke out in a big grin.

"Thanks, Jack. We're always in need of new crew, and _interesting_ people are even _more_ welcome."

The formerly glorious Captain Hook gave a cry of despair, and slumped over.

…FIN! 


End file.
